


With a Whisper

by amomentoflove



Series: Coffee Shop AU [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff, M/M, Rimming, declaration of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 10:58:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5372801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amomentoflove/pseuds/amomentoflove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry buys Louis roses. Louis has a confession.</p><p>Sequel to Rainy Days and Leaves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With a Whisper

**Author's Note:**

> *peeks out behind a pile of books* Ummm hi there! I'm terribly terribly sorry that I haven't posted anything in months. This semester has kept me incredibly busy. When I did have free time, I was either watching football, spending time with my family and friends, or lounging around while scrolling through tumblr. The only reason I was able to write this is because I wrote the majority of it after someone commented that Rainy Days and Leaves ended abruptly. 
> 
> So this is the sequel to Rainy Days and Leaves and needs to be read after that story. If you haven't read that, go read it now!
> 
> (I'm sorry if this is terrible, it's be awhile.) Enjoy! [tumblr](http://www.daggerandrose.tumblr.com)

“And breathe out for ten beats,” the woman on the T.V. instructs, her voice hypnotically soothing. “Feel your muscles pull as you hold the position for eight, nine, ten and relax."

Harry’s legs are shoulder length apart and bent at the knee, arms are stretched across the floor helping him stay balanced as he pushes his pelvis upwards. His legs tremble as they try to keep his position, and he’s pretty sure his lower back is numb from the strain. Nonetheless, he breathes out for ten beats before he walks his feet down so he’s laying flat on his lime green yoga mat. He looks to his left to see his glass of ice water on the coffee table and reaches an arm out. When he can’t reach it, he flops his arm back on the floor and waits until his heartbeat slows down to a normal pace before sitting up and chugging the whole glass in one breath.

“Off to work.” Harry hears Louis mutter out before stepping out of the flat. 

That’s the odd thing about his current living situation. Louis.

Louis has been acting odd ever since the day he moved in. He left Harry to figure out where to store his things since there is only one bedroom in the flat. The living room has become Harry’s bedroom, six out of the ten kitchen cabinets are his, and the tiny hall closet is Harry’s closet for his clothes. He feels bad for taking over Louis’ flat but Louis kept reassuring him that he was fine. That it was fine that he moved in. That it was fine that they shared a bathroom. But Harry senses that it is not and never has been merely fine. Otherwise Louis would not of been avoiding Harry like he is the plague in human form for the past two weeks. 

Their schedules don’t match up. Louis is still asleep when Harry goes to class and is gone either to work or to class when he gets back. They see one another at night on the off chance that Louis isn’t out with his mates or Harry isn’t at a study group. The times they are at the flat at the same time, Harry only sees Louis when he comes into the kitchen for something to eat or when they bump into one another on the way to the bathroom. It’s completely awkward for Harry and he’s beginning to feel isolated from Louis. He’s beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea, moving into a one bedroom and one bathroom flat with someone he’s known for three days and slept with after uni Halloween party. Harry still has the lease with Roger and the landlord, and he can’t legally get out of it until after Winter Break. So he’s still paying for rent there. 

He peels himself off of the yoga mat, his back aching with the action, and heads to the kitchen to refill his glass. He feels like an unwanted stranger in this flat now. Feels like he shouldn’t be here, like he’s intruding on Louis’ space. There’s a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach as he goes to the refrigerator and pulls out the grapes, rinses them, and places them into a bowl. He mentally plans out possible things he could do.

He could move out. But that would mean moving back in with Roger and that’s a definite no.

He could confront Louis about it. But that could end up in an agreement and getting kicked out of the apartment or getting on bad terms with Louis. And Louis is so lovely that he can’t do that. He never wants to get on Louis’ bad side. 

Which leaves option three: bake or cook a meal. This is a special case though Harry decides to do both. He checks the time and sees that he has approximately three hours until Louis gets back from his shift at the coffee shop. He already has an idea of what to make, but he doesn’t think that he has all the ingredients he needs.

With a quick check through the pantry, he decides that he needs to go the shops. But he doesn’t have a car. That’s slightly problematic. 

“Just improvise.” Harry mutters to himself as he pulls out a notebook and a pen from his backpack. He jots down a list of ingredients and rushes to put his shoes on and grab his wallet before heading out of the flat. 

He has to wait twenty-seven minutes for the bus to come to the stop and then has to hold on the rails above the seats so he doesn’t bump into anyone when the driver breaks heavily. He’s practically nauseous by the time the bus stops in front of the shops. The constant stop and start and heavy breaking by the driver making him shaky as he steps off the vehicle. He remembers why he hates the university buses. They’re driven by drivers from hell, making it their goal in life to see how many university students they can make fall in a ten minute period. 

Harry practically runs up and down the aisle of Tesco’s as he checks off his list. He pauses for just a quick second when he passes a display of flowers. He bites his bottom lip as he stares at the colorful petals.

“Need some help, sir?” A voice startles him. He turns to see an elderly lady, a faded green apron covering her purple sweater. He can spot splotches of dirt here and there on the apron.

He returns her warm smile and replies, “Erm, perhaps. How much are these?” he points to the bouquet of orange roses in front of him.

“Oh,” she begins, “you shouldn’t worry about the price but rather the meaning of them.”

“Meaning?” He asks, shifting to face her directly.

“Oh yes.” She gestures to a bundle of red buds. “Those are tulips. Red ones mean undying love. Ah,” she moves her hand to the next set of flowers. “White roses mean purity. The orange roses are a way of expressing admiration and attraction. Are you trying to win someone over, dear?”

“Oh.” Harry feels his cheeks warm at that notion. It’s true though. “Perhaps.” He can’t help but smile shyly at being able to call Louis his significant other. He never meant to try to ‘win’ him over but… now that this kind lady put the thought into his head, it doesn’t seem that bad of an idea. He and Louis connected extremely well two weeks ago. If they could click when Harry had his head the toilet and Louis purposefully misspelled his name, then maybe the orange roses would work. Perhaps that connection, that spark of something is still there. Harry just needs to take that step to get the tension out of the way.

The worker nods her head knowingly. “Then those are the one for you, love. Want me to ring you up?”

“Yes, please.” He has a boy to win over.

-*-

As it turns out, trying to cook a romantic meal and bake something chocolatey in only a couple hours is an impossible task. Harry has yet to shower after his workout and his hair is falling out his bun as he scrambles to complete the meal. He has two pots and one pan on the stove, a cake in the oven, and measuring tools scattered all over the kitchen. Oh and he’s burned himself about five times within thirty minutes. 

The only successful task he’s managed to accomplished was setting the breakfast bar. The orange roses are placed between the plates, napkins are folded into a triangle, silverware is correctly placed beside the plates (he had to look up the etiquette way of doing it), and he’s lit a couple candles to sit at the either end of the breakfast bar, just to make it more of a romantic atmosphere. But the food is nowhere near being ready, the cake has barely risen, and Louis should be home literally any minute.

Harry should have taken less time at Tesco. Harry also should have made a lasagna instead of a complicated chicken and pasta dish. He flips the two chicken breasts over while stirring the noodles and prays that it will be done in time. Once the breasts are flipped and they look like they’re cooked all the way through, he simultaneously stirs the noodles and the sauce so it doesn’t burn at the bottom of the pots. He can smell the tomatoes from the sauce and his stomach growls. He’s just realized that he hasn’t eaten anything today other than those grapes from the morning. Just as he mentally high-fives himself for finishing the food before Louis gets here, Harry hears the crinkle of plastic bags, muffled by the door. His heart stutters in his chest when he hears the doorknob rattle as Louis pushes the key in. Harry curses to himself for not showering and making himself a bit more presentable, but he knows there’s nothing he can do at this point. He hadn’t even thought of how to explain everything he’s done.

He hears the squeak of Louis’ shoes as he halts in the doorway. “Erm, what’s all this?” Louis’ voice is high-pitched and if Harry had listened closely, he would of heard the slight tremor in it.

“Well,” he says, not turning around. He’s too afraid to see Louis’ reaction to the set up. “I, um I-I wanted to make you a nice meal. You know as a thank you for letting me stay here and all.” He bites his lip and turns the stove off. He reaches for the plastic bright yellow colander and strains the water out of the noodles. He then places the colander with the noodles on top of the pot and back on the stove. 

“And the flowers?” Louis asks, his voice is so so soft and quiet and Harry is so so afraid to turn around. But he does.

Louis is standing in front of one of the barstools, taking in all of Harry’s work, a takeout bag from the local Chinese restaurant on campus in one hand and his keys in the other. Harry can’t read his expression at all. He stares at Louis as he shifts his eyes from the flowers to the food on the stove and finally to Harry.

“I saw them at Tesco’s and thought they’d look nice. You know, them being orange and it’s fall and all.” He meekly explains. 

It’s silent for a long couple of seconds. Harry can’t stop imagining what Louis must think of all this. He probably hates it. He must hate it. He’s not saying anything. His face hasn’t turned to give Harry a soft warm smile like he did when they were together that night two weeks ago. Shit, he really messed up. He royally mess up here. He needs to pack up all of his things and high-tail it back to the flat with Roger. He cannot stay here any longer because Louis isn’t saying anything. 

“They mean attraction.” Louis speaks up and he looks at Harry with such a fondness in his eyes it hits Harry like a brick wall. Well, more like a large fluffy pillow because Harry wants Louis to always look at him like that.

“What?” Harry feels pinned to his spot with Louis’ look. His heart hammers in his chest and he’s frozen in his spot.

“Orange roses mean attraction. Or something like that.” Louis explains, tilting his head to the flowers in the clear vase.

All of the air feels as if it has left Harry’s lungs. Panic alarms blare in his head. “Oh, erm. I- yeah. They do.” He tucks the wayward pieces of hair behind his ears and shuffles his feet. Harry has no idea what to do know. Does he do like all those romantic comedies show and rush over to Louis for a passionate kiss? Does he stay by the stove, with the breakfast bar separating him from Louis and wait? Does he run directly to the bathroom so he can wash the stench of sweat off of him? While all are solid choice, he decides to reach across the breakfast bar to grab the two plates set out.

“Dinner?”

Louis smiles lips pressed together and he hold up the takeaway. “I’ll just pop this in the fridge for later.”

And oh, yeah. Harry completely forgot that Louis had gotten food already.

“Are you sure?” He questions, pausing from serving Louis the chicken marinara.

“Completely. I’m sure your food is better than this greasy shit.” Louis chuckles as he sets the bag in the fridge and goes over to pull the barstool out with a scrap against the floor. 

Harry sets Louis’ plate in front of him and he serves himself. Just as they pick up their utensils, the timer for the oven goes off. It causes Louis to jolt in his seat and turn to face Harry.

“What’s that?” 

“Oh,” Harry blushes and he hops off the barstool to go pull oven mitts on before opening the oven. The smell of chocolate and the overwhelming warmth wafts over Harry’s face as he slides the cake out. “I made a chocolate cake too. Obviously, it just came out so I haven’t had time to ice it anything. But I will! I’ll do it after we eat and it cools.”

He feels his face warm as he sets the cake pan on the counter to cool and he faces Louis once more.

Louis’ eyes crinkle at the sides as he smiles and ducks his head. “You did all this for me?” His voice isn’t louder than a murmur.

Harry nods. 

“After I’ve been a right tit the past couple of weeks? You’re something else Harry Styles.”

Harry takes the oven mitts off and returns them to the drawer. He shyly goes over to sit beside of Louis again. “Yeah, well I figured you weren’t completely thrilled that I invited myself to live here. You have a reason to be a tit to me.”

Louis places a hand on Harry’s thigh and Harry can feel the warmth of it seep through his leggings. “No, I don’t. You had a terrible living situation before, and I’m so happy that you’re here. Honest. It threw me off at first to having someone who I- erm someone else here. I-” Louis ducks his head down and Harry covers Louis’ hand with his and he feels Louis’ fingers twitch underneath his.. “I really like you Haz. I didn’t want to say or do anything that would make you leave just in case you didn’t feel the same way. Though I guess, ignoring you might of done it.” Louis confesses, thinking out loud and Harry can feel satisfaction fill his entire being. 

He’s practically giddy and he tries to suppress from beaming but fails. He starts laughing. “Oh my God, I was so scared that you were going to kick me out, or yell at me or something terrible like that.” 

Louis looks shocked for a second before smiling warmly at the boy next to him. “What a pair we are.”

Harry giggles and laces their fingers together. “Really pathetic. We mustn’t tell the boys.”

Louis bursts out laughing. “No, definitely not. They wouldn’t let us live it down. Tossers.”

They stare at one another, warm grins on their faces and hands entwined. 

Louis breaks the silence. “Let’s eat, yeah?” 

Harry nods. “Yeah.”

-*-

“Oh my God.” Louis exclaims, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. “This is the best idea you’ve ever had. Fuck!” 

Harry has him on his stomach and pinned down on the bed. His hands are pulled behind his back with one of Harry’s holding them together. Harry’s other hand is holding Louis open while he licks the chocolate icing off of Louis’ ass. Every now and then, Harry’s tongue sneakily makes its way to Louis’ hole and brushes over the sensitive skin. Harry bites at the skin next to it, and Louis’ leg twitches.

“Fucking fuck, Harry. You’re so evil.”

“Weren’t you just praising me?” Harry cheekily asks. He reaches to the side and grabs the bottle of lube. He slicks up a couple of fingers and trace them over Louis’ hole. 

“You’re both.” Louis breathily replies. “You’re a godsend and the devil. Fucking tease.”

“Seems like you like to be teased though.” Harry points out. 

Louis buries his head in the pillow in front of him and his reply is muffled by the fabric. “Yeah.” 

Harry smirks to himself and slowly slides a finger into Louis. His hole is tight around Harry’s finger and Harry has to squeeze the base of his cock so he doesn’t come at the thought of being surrounded by that warmth and pressure. He has to make this good for Louis first. He deserves it. He works the one finger around Louis, playing with him. He takes the bowl of icing and dribbles more on Louis’ lower back, watching the sweet mixture pool there. He bends down and licks at it. The chocolate has hints of Louis like his’ skin, salty and sweet and so so good. He licks the remainder and crawls forward. One hand grabs the hair at the base of Louis’ neck to angle his mouth to his own. Louis moans as Harry pushes his chocolate covered tongue in his mouth.

Louis sucks Harry’s tongue in his mouth, licking off the sweetness. He pulls one hand free to tug at Harry’s hair, some strands falling out of the bun. “Tastes good Haz.” Louis murmurs before kissing Harry again, twitching underneath Harry as he pushes a second finger in him. “You’re fingers are the best creation ever.”

Harry laughs and grinds his cock against Louis.” You sure about that Lou?” He teases.

“Well, just right now.” Louis amends, looking back at Harry. 

Harry smirks and kisses Louis once more before going back down to his ass, taking Louis’ freed hand back in his one, restraining him once more. Harry nips and bites at Louis’ ass as he slowly curves his fingers slightly forward searching for that one spot. He feels it and uses the pads of his fingers to brush against it. Louis’ legs jerk in surprise before they relax as he groans. Harry continues to tease at Louis’ prostate, barely applying any pressure to it. He scissors his fingers and slides a third inside. 

He hears Louis’ breath pick up and a slur of “fucking fuck” and “yeah” come from the boy. Harry leans back down to lick at Louis’ hole, the taste of chocolate and lube coating his tongue as he dives his tongue in. He eases his three fingers out of Louis and leans over to the side to grab a condom. He opens the package after a couple tries with his lubed up fingers and rolls it down his length. 

Harry feels a nudge against his thigh and he looks up at Louis, his face flushed and eyes watery. “Are you alright?” He scoots up to the bed, hovering over Louis’ face.

“Yeah,” Louis croaks out. “That tongue of yours is wicked.”

Harry grins and presses their lips together, fumbling with his weight on his knees as he settles a hand on Louis’ face while the other gently turns him over onto his back. “Want it like this yeah?” Harry whispers, his lips brushing over Louis’ due to their close proximity.

“Yeah,” Louis nods minutely and his fingertips graze Harry’s waist before he grips them. Harry shudders at his touch and guides himself inside of Louis. 

They groan when Harry is fully in. Harry feels Louis’ muscles flutter around him and it almost knocks the breath out of him. “You’re so tight, Lou. You feel so good, love.”

Louis grins up at him, his hands gripping at Harry’s hips, trailing up Harry’s torso, and cupping his face as he brings up down for a deep kiss once more. Harry sinks his body lower onto Louis’ and pulls out, the tip of his cock still in Louis’ warm before he thrusts in.

Louis gasps at the quickness of Harry’s actions and Harry takes the moment to slide his tongue in Louis’ mouth. Louis groans and kisses Harry back just as hard. Hands grip at skin, nails leaving creases to find later, and the slap of skin and the creak of Louis’ bed springs fill the air. 

Harry’s hips stutter soon when he feels Louis tighten his muscles around him, his legs tightening around his waist at the same time. As if Louis is doing all he can to keep Harry there, above him and in him for as long as he can. Louis’ hands bury themselves in Harry’s hair, keeping his head close to Louis’. Their forehead’s press against one another and hot air wafts over their faces. They’re barely able to kiss properly due to Harry’s fast movements and the pleasure spiking up their spines. Fireworks dance across Louis’ vision when Harry hits his prostate and keeps that pressure there. He comes soon after and Harry follows, the muscles in his ass cramping up slightly when he buries himself inside Louis.

His muscles steadily loosen and Harry rolls over. He takes the condom off and ties it before tossing it towards the bedside trashcan. Louis immediately presses up against Harry’s side and Harry curls his arm over his shoulders, drawing him even closer. Louis leave soft kisses on Harry’s pec and Harry returns the gesture by burying his nose in Louis’ rumpled hair. 

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch anymore.” Louis mumbles out a few minutes later.

Harry glances down to see Louis’ eyelids flutter and he feels the boy relax into his side. “No?”

Louis shakes his head and uses his feet to slide the comforter up their bodies, the material only reaching their knees. Harry chuckles and moves to properly pull it all the way up. Louis groans frustratedly when Harry moves but sighs when Harry settles back down against the mattress.

“Stay here, please.” Louis replies, his voice growing soft and quieter. Harry knows that he’ll be asleep soon and he can feel it pulling him down too.

He shifts so he’s more comfortable, keeping his arm around Louis, and curls his other hand over Louis’ where it’s thrown haphazardly over Harry’s torso. “Alright, love.”

Harry feels Louis smile against his skin before he hears puffs of air leave his open lips, sleep fully taking him. Harry beams up at the ceiling since the day ended much different than Harry had originally thought. He still needs a shower, a cake to properly ice, more icing to make, and tons of other work before the end of term. But he has his boy, this boy who makes his heart flutter in his chest, and who is wrapped around him so warmly. He’ll deal with everything else tomorrow.


End file.
